Twist of Fate
by Kage NoTenshi
Summary: Malik's past catches up to him in the middle of class
1. New Students

Warning: I'm don't think there are any spoilers in this fic, but just in case you find one tell me so I can warn everyone where it is. Malik/original character If you don't like the pairing don't read it. 

This is a random rambling of my bored mind. Malik Ishtar is my favorite character (tied with Yami Bakura), so naturally, I have to torment him and cause him pain…at least psychologically. If I owned Yu-Gi-Oh, anyone who tried to dub it would be sent to the shadow realm, Malik would rule the world, and it would be Ishtar Corp instead of Kaiba Corp. And maybe I'd let Yuugi show up in an episode or two…must pity the short people. (Like me!) *dramatic sigh* Oh, well...

*.*;

"Hear that? We've got a new student! In the middle of the year, too! Sheesh, how weird…" The whispers circulated excitedly through Domino High until they reached the ears of one Malik Ishtar. He shrugged it off, unimpressed. He had been new here last year. He didn't bother to try and find out which face in the hall she was. She'd get introduced to everyone at some assembly or another-and at least in class. He was right. It was just as he was sitting down to history when the teacher announced the new classmate. He glanced up to see her rise, a tall, willowy girl with tan skin and long black hair twisted into a rope down her back, and slender golden obelisks dangling from her ears. The long sleeved jacket and the skirt of the uniform looked good on her. Something about her seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was when the teacher announced her name, Asenath, that it hit him. Digging quickly and discreetly through his bag, he pulled out his black leather wallet and flipped it open. His eyes flicked from the picture staring at him to the girl two rows in front of him and back again. He swallowed, not believing his eyes. _It couldn't be…Not her…_

Yuugi poked him. "What's the matter? Are you feeling okay?"

Malik shoved his wallet back into his bag and nodded jerkily, turning his eyes to the teacher, hoping there wouldn't be any more questions. Fortunately, the lesson started and saved him. 

Much to his dismay, though, Yami Bakura seemed to have noticed too, and brought up the subject at lunch. "So…whaddya think of that new girl?"

"Dunno." Malik tried to shrug off the subject. "Why should I have an opinion about her?"

His friend laughed. "Don't pretend! You practically jumped out of your skin when the teacher read her name. Did you know her from somewhere or something?"

Malik sulked over his soda. "I'm not telling."

"C'mon!"

"No."

"Pleeeeeeaase!"

"No."

"I'll…I'll…I'll do anything!!"

"Anything?"

"Ye-I mean, no! Almost anything!"

"Get on your knees and beg."

Bakura did. "I beg you!"

"Why are you so desperate to know?"

"So I can blackmai-uh, because you're my friend and I don't want you to be unhappy!"

"Right. Um…kowtow and plead with me as you would the pharaoh."

Bakura considered this for a few moments and then touched his head to the ground once very quickly. "Please enlighten me, O invincible king of games who can be defeated by none…even weird people like the holder of the Sennen rod-ow!"

Malik had delivered a neat, sharp kick to kneeling Bakura's shoulder. "Not THAT much like the pharaoh!! Now sit down, people are starting to stare!"

R&R I love reading reviews. So please send any comments you have, anything at all. 


	2. Five Year Old Pictures

Bakura glanced around and noticed that most people were indeed watching his unusual performance. He grinned at Malik's irritated expression and seated himself across from his friend. "Okay. Now explain."

"Hey, you!"

They turned to see the new girl striding up to them. She fixed her eyes on Malik. "You…you look familiar. What's your name?"

"B…Boku wa Namu…ha…hajime…" stammered Malik. [I'm Namu. Nice to meet you.]

Bakura narrowed his eyes. Malik had used that name when he had first met Jounouchi and Anzu in an attempt to find and destroy Yuugi. It seemed to be a favorite alias of his. Only, last time, he had introduced himself with much more confidence. 

Asenath looked a little disappointed. "Namu, huh? I guess you're someone else. Well, nice to meet you too." She turned and walked away.

Bakura looked at his friend suspiciously. "What was all that about?"

Malik sighed. "You promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Promise…just this once, though."

"Okay." Malik pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. Bakura stared at the picture. 

"That's her, isn't it?"

"Yeah…only it's from about five years ago."

"Why do you have it?"

"Ehh…it's a long story."

"I'm listening."

Sigh. "Okay. I've never met her before."

"How's that possible?"

"Well, I grew up in Egypt, K? And my dad had already betrothed me to someone and given me her picture, but I never met her. When my father was killed, everything kind of fell apart, and I thought the whole thing was off…"

"You were gonna marry HER???"

I really should stop reading up on cultures where their kids marry in their early teens, no? Oh well.

R&R

I know, I know, it's short. It'll be longer next time.


	3. Exposed

"I was supposed to."

"But you don't have to now, right?"

"I don't think so, but just seeing her kind of…freaks me out, I guess."

Bakura snorted. "I don't blame you. But maybe you should talk to her. I mean…work something out, you know."

"I'd…rather not right now. Give me a little time."

"Whatever. Are you sure I can't tell anyone?"

Malik dug his hands into his thick, pale hair. "Well, I guess maybe the pharaoh, but no one else. He might have some good ideas what to do."

Bakura grinned. "Okay." He then picked up his books and walked off, snickering. Malik went back to his soda thinking that maybe he had just made a big mistake. 

As it was, Yuugi was very understanding. His Yami, however, appeared a few times and made comments about how kids in the good old days of Egypt actually observed tradition no matter what. This annoyed Malik very much. Yuugi finally locked the soul room, and they were able to have some quiet. Yuugi was about to start giving suggestions when Jounouchi raced up. "Malik! 'ey, Malik! Yuugi! Are you guys going to the football game on Fri-mmph!"

Malik had flung a hand over Jounouchi's mouth, silencing him. "Listen, Jounouchi Katsuya. I'm Namu, got it? Don't call me Malik at school."

Jounouchi pried Malik's hand off of his mouth. "Namu? I thought you gave that up a long time ago. What's going on?"

Malik glared. "Nothing that concerns you. Just be quiet!"

Jounouchi shrugged. "Whatever you say. Does this have something to do with how you freaked out when the new girl came?"

"He didn't-" Yuugi started.

"Just be quiet!" snapped Malik.

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and postponing any further discussion. 

Malik had no classes the last period of the day, so he went to his usual bench in a secluded corner of campus and, using his bag for a pillow, stretched out for a nap. He was just starting to drift off when someone poked him hard in the shoulder. "Nng…go 'way Yamashita, you're early. I hired you to wake me up at the end of the period," he snapped. He rolled over mumbling something about how freshmen can't tell the time of day.

"MALIK!!"

His eyes flew open to see, not Yamashita, but Asenath. "Aah! Don't do that! Can't you see I'm trying to take a nap?! Ra knows we don't get enough sleep these days."

She scowled back down at him. "Malik."

"That's my na-I mean, who's Malik?

"You're not funny. I heard your friend yelling to you at lunch." She reached into his bag and pulled out his wallet. She dug her own out of her pocket. Flipping them both open, she glanced at the pictures. "You're him, all right."


	4. On Your Person

Malik sat up and looked too, his face paling slightly. "Dad gave you THAT picture? I looked like such a…an airhead when I was little!"

She scrutinized his face. "You haven't changed much."

"Thanks a lot." He slapped his wallet shut on her fingers before snatching it back and stuffing it into his bag. "Whaddya want?"

"That's a nice welcome. I meet my future husband for the first time and all he does is be rude."

"Whoa, whoa…future husband?"

"Well, since when was the betrothal off?"

Malik had to admit there wasn't anything official of the sort at all. 

"That's right. And you do have the directions to the god cards on your person, don't you?"

"Um…well, I don't know. I've got a lot of miscellaneous papers. This is high school, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean literally on your person."

"Oh." Realization dawned on his face. "Yeah. I do. I've had them since I was ten." He winced at the memory. 

She nodded slightly.

"Well, it's not like you would be able to relate. Why are you so interested about the directions?"

"I wanted more proof. We are meant to go together."

"What are you talking about?"

She looked annoyed at his ignorance. "Your father didn't tell you? I guess he didn't get a chance." Shifting her weight to one foot, she slipped her left foot from its leather shoe. Scars formed the eye of the pharaoh, the mark that was on all millennium items, on the top of her foot. "I was branded when I was ten. We're both marked."

"Malik! Where are you??" came a voice from around the corner.

Malik cursed under his breath about not being able to get a decent nap, but went to go see what the newcomer wanted. It turned out to be Bakura, smirking and very pleased. "What are YOU doing here?" demanded Malik.

Bakura grinned. "I got out of study hall, and I thought I'd come make sure you don't get in trouble."

"Me in trouble? What about you? Why were you in study hall anyway?"

"Because-"

"Oh that's right, you licked the scalpel before whipping it across the frog we were supposed to DELICATELY dissect in science, and the teacher didn't like it…"

Bakura shrugged. "She overreacted. It was only the fourth time. Anyway, I won a duel with the proctor and got out of study hall."

"Can you DO that?"

"I did."

"Malik? Who are you talking to?" Asenath poked her head around the corner.

"Ohh!" said Bakura. "You've been hanging with your girlfr-hyurk!"

Malik had jabbed his elbow into Bakura's stomach and stalked off, grabbing his bag on the way. 

TBC

R&R


	5. Beginning or Ending Tradition

Bakura and Asenath watched him stomp down the hall. "What's his problem?" asked Asenath.

"Dunno."

"Um…excuse me…" They turned to see a younger boy looking up at them.

"Yeah?"

"Is Ishtar Malik here? I was supposed to wake him up at the end of the period."

"Oh…so you're Yamashita," guessed Asenath.

"Yeah! How did you know?"

Asenath left Malik alone for a week, understanding perfectly that he needed time to adjust to this new development in his already chaotic teenage life. The next Thursday, though, he was walking home when he heard a call behind him. "Malik! Wait up!"

He turned to see her run up next to him. "What?"

"Do you have anything to do right now?"

"Um…no, not really," he said, wishing he had his motorcycle and desperately trying to think of something he should be doing. 

"Good. Walk with me."

"Where to?"

"I don't know. Wherever. I think we need to talk."

"Really," he said.

"Yeah. Let's go to the park. I want this to work out without fighting."

"…"

"Really truly. I know I kind of gave you a shock when I showed up, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. It's just…I wanted to see some closure with this arrangement."

"You wanted to get married already," said Malik dully. "Is it just me, or is it warmer than usual today?" He stopped for a moment and pulled off his uniform jacket, slinging it over his shoulder.

"I hadn't noticed," she said, "and we're getting off the subject."

Malik shrugged and they started off again. He didn't, however, miss the bead of sweat that trickled down the side of her face. Pushing his puzzled thoughts aside, he walked silently with her until they reached the park. Dropping their stuff under a tree, they headed toward the playground. Surprisingly, it wasn't too crowded. Asenath hoisted herself up and sat on one of the horizontal bars, while Malik leaned on the one next to hers. 

"Why do you want to get married anyways? You don't even know me really."

"Yeah. It's just…I want the tradition to be fulfilled like it's supposed to be."

"That's it? Look, I don't do tradition anymore. It all ended with my father."

She looked away. "I heard about that."

"Hn." He was quiet for a moment, reflecting and remembering. Slowly, he brushed a hand across his eyes and looked at her again. "What else is there?"

"It's…for our children-" Malik choked, but she ignored him. "Word came to me that the pharaoh walks once again on this earth. What with our heritage, we and our children-" Malik flinched as she used the word again "-could be great in his service…once we have some, that is, and once we find the pharaoh."

Malik smiled in spite of himself. "I already know where he is."

Surprise registered on her face. "You have??"

"Yup. I think you at least know his name, too."

"Who is it??"

"Mutou Yuugi." 

TBC

R&R


	6. More Hieroglyphics

Asenath stared and almost fell of her horizontal bar. "Uso!!" she gasped. ([No way! You lie!] Not to be confused with the one that starts with "k".) "That short kid with the really tall hair??"

Malik nodded. "That's right. It's him…or actually his Yami."

"Yami?"

"I'm sure you noticed the Sennen puzzle hanging around his neck. He has a Yami too…just like I used to."

"Used to?"

"Yeah. I'm not sorry he's gone." He glanced at her. "Are you sure you don't want to take off your jacket? I know the girls all wear shirts under them, and you look like you're gonna give yourself heatstroke."

"I'm fine, really."

"What's the matter with you? We both know you're about to catch fire or something."

"There are too many people around."

Malik glanced about the playground. "They left. There's nobody."

She followed his gaze just to make sure. "All right, then. I guess you'd find out anyways." Slowly, she undid the buttons and dropped the jacket to the ground. Malik's eyes widened. Running in vertical columns down both her now bare arms and standing out especially against the white of her tank top were lines of hieroglyphics. She frowned. "Yes, branded on when I was ten, just like the other marking I showed you. I know your pain, Malik…and maybe more so than Rishid. I have the directions to the Sennen items, and only the pharaoh and my husband may read them. You see, we were meant to go together."

Malik thought about this for a while. "Tell you what," he said finally. "I'll make you deal: we don't talk about marriage and definitely not kids for a good long while, and I'll take you to the next school dance."

Asenath blinked. This was obviously not the response she had been expecting. "Um…"

Malik looked off elsewhere. "I mean, don't you think it's a little early to get married?"

"Well…tradition…"

"Ah…forget tradition for now. We're teenagers, 'member?"

"Your point?"

"Our tradition is changing tradition, of course."

"What??"

He shook his head. "Just put the wedding off for a few years, K?"

"You mean you'll go through with it later on?"

"Ah…not promising anything yet, got it?"

She sighed. "I didn't think you'd understand."

He rolled his eyes in frustration. "Just take the dance offer already! It's pretty good. I don't ask girls out much."

She narrowed her eyes. "You mean you've been going out with someone else before?"

"Nope. I haven't yet."

She folded her arms, her balanced seat on the bar never wavering. "How do I know I can take your word for it?"

He shrugged and grinned. "I guess you don't. Is the wedding off?"

She scowled. "Were you this stubborn when you were younger?"

He glanced away, feigning boredom. "I haven't changed much."

She rolled her eyes, recognizing her own words as he threw them back at her. "A real brat, huh?"

"Yep. Imagine what my kids'll turn out like."

She suppressed a shudder. "I'm sure they'd be fine with some good training."

"Wishful thinking," he muttered with a smirk.

"You're just trying to discourage me from keeping the tradition's requirements."

Malik pretended to be hurt. "Me? No way!"

She glared at him. "In any case, I think I'll be talking to your sister about this all. Isis, is it?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, anyways, I'll drop by tomorrow after school to discuss it with her. She _does_ know I'm in town, doesn't she? I've been here over a week."

Malik squirmed. "Well…" He was going to catch it now. Isis tended to get annoyed when he kept big things like this from her.

"I see. Well, you'd probably better tell her before then. I want some closure to this whole fiasco sometime soon."

"How about a divorce?" suggested Malik brightly.

She turned one of those annoyed "you baka" looks that girls are so good at giving on him. "Ishtar Malik, we aren't even married yet, thanks to you."

Malik grinned. "So we call the whole thing off and leave it at that!"

"I don't think so." They were quiet for a while. "Well," she said finally, jumping down from her jungle gym bar, "I'll just stop by tomorrow to talk to your sister. We don't seem to be getting anywhere right now."

Malik grinned triumphantly and not a little smugly. "But Isis has a meeting at the museum tomorrow. Even if you come, she won't be there."

Asenath studied his face. "Yeah, right. I'll come by to check for myself."

Malik hefted his bag with a smirk. "Be my guest."

TBC

R&R


	7. Women

She left him alone at school the next day. He sped home on his motorcycle anyways, just in case she wanted to walk with him. He raced inside upon arrival, locked the door, and leaned against it breathing heavily. Isis looked up from her reading spot on the couch. "What happened now?"

Malik peeked out the window. "Some psycho gir-hey! What're you doing here?"

Isis turned a page. "The meeting was postponed until next week." She glanced up at him. He had gone suddenly pale. "What's the matter?"

Determined, steady footsteps approached in the outside hall. "Oh noooo…"

The doorbell rang.

Malik froze.

"Open the door, Malik," said Isis.

Slowly, he reached for the doorknob. Opening the door a crack, he looked out. "Thank you, we're not interested," he said quickly and slammed the door. "Salesman," he told Isis.

The doorbell rang again. "That's not funny, Malik," came a voice through the door.

"Who is it?" asked Isis.

"Umm…"

The doorbell rang again.

"Let whoever it is in, Malik," commanded Isis.

Very slowly, he obeyed. As he expected, Asenath stood in the doorway, her arms akimbo and her mien clearly showing the fury she felt.

Isis rose with a practiced grace despite her surprise. "How may I help you?" she asked the irate girl politely.

Asenath fixed her glinting ink-black eyes on the speaker. "Isis?"

"Yes."

"Malik said you wouldn't be here."

"I wasn't supposed to, but the previous commitment was cancelled."

"See?" put in Malik.

"Hush, Malik. Let me deal with this." Isis matched the girl eye to eye. "Won't you come in? It appears you know my brother already."

Asenath nodded stiffly and stepped into the living room. "This may be somewhat of a surprise to you, as I don't think Malik has forewarned you, but I'm here on business your father left unfinished."

Isis's hand flew to her mouth. "What about my father, may he rest in peace?"

Malik gave a bitter, suppressed laugh at her words. Peace indeed.

"Here, Neesan," he said, pulling out his wallet. "It's this."

Isis took the picture and stared at it. "Asenath," she breathed.

"That's me."

"How…how did you find us?"

"I have my methods. Besides, your brother caused a small stir as a duelist. I came for my marriage."

Isis sat down suddenly. "That's right. It's…it's what father wanted."

Asenath nodded. "It is for the pharaoh as well."

"Of course." Isis couldn't tear her eyes from the girl before her. It was like suddenly coming face to face with a character from a childhood storybook. 

"She's crazy, isn't she?" cut in Malik. "I'm not getting married ever!"

Isis rolled her eyes, clearly knowing her seniority over Malik. "Be still and let me discuss this with Asenath. This is not a simple matter."

"Tell me about it," muttered Malik, stomping off to his room and slamming the door. The voices went on outside, but he could no longer understand what they said. That was fine, he didn't want to hear what they planned for his future. "Women," he groaned. "Ra take it all, they should never be given power of any kind." He flopped down on his bed. "Why? Why why why??" he complained to the wall. "I thought my life was gonna be sorta normal, and then SHE shows up."

He rolled onto his back and stared up at the blank ceiling. It could have been worse, of course. Asenath was fun to tease and frustrate. He found it very entertaining when her dark eyes snapped in annoyance at him. They were nice eyes, though, deep and intelligent… He shook his head, banishing such thoughts. He'd have to be careful. She was more clever than he cared to give her credit for, and not bad looking either… He slapped his forehead in frustration. It was happening again. Annoyed even more by the unresponding solitude of his room, he went back out to the living room in time to see Asenath leaving. She gave him a nod as she went out the door, but thanked Isis courteously. "Well?" asked Malik once the door was shut.

Isis seated herself on the couch. "She seems to be a very nice girl. I think you should count yourself lucky Father picked someone like her for you."

"But you're not gonna make me get married, right?"

"I really would like to have this all go through. I mean, it's the least you could do for Father's memory."

"I don't want to," Malik said, knowing very well how sulky he sounded.

"I know," she said with a sigh. "Think about it for a while, okay?"

Arguing would have been useless, so Malik mumbled some sort of assent and went off to his room again. He lay on his bed for a long time, trying to make sense of it all. Why? The question repeated itself endlessly in his head. Still unsure, he fell asleep, clutching the Sennen rod in his right hand. He did that sometimes when life rested heavily on his shoulders. Just having something solid in his hand was comforting, even if the rod no longer held any power.

TBC

R&R


	8. Sweet Dreams 1

She sat silently as the slave girls expertly ran the gilt comb through her heavy dark hair. She was an attendant herself, but she served the pharaoh himself, and couldn't be bothered with things like combing her hair. Her face was impassive and her body position neutral, allowing the slaves to make her presentable. The gold earrings hung heavy from her lobes, and a few jeweled rings adorned her slender fingers. An embroidered belt hung around her waist, standing out a bit against the plain white of her pleated dress. One of her favorite slaves approached with makeup and heavily outlined her eyes with dark colors. The day would go as usual; she would follow the pharaoh about and sit in his presence in the throne room as part of his court. She would watch his Shadow Games from the sidelines and cheer him on in a dignified manner. When he ate his meals, she would join some of the other young women in dancing before him, their liquid movements rivaling those of any goddess. 

The slaves draped sheer linen across her shoulders and fastened gold about her neck. With the grace of the rising sun, she stood and walked down the corridors towards where she was to meet the pharaoh. As she glided down the halls, she did not fail to see the pale-haired son of the head scribe, lingering a little ways from her doorway. And though she showed no sign of it, she knew the way his eyes followed her. She refused to allow herself a second glance at him, though, despite the feelings that tugged at her heart. She had heard the slave girls chattering one evening. The rumors claimed she would be the next addition to the pharaoh's harem. He was still young, and his collection of wives was yet small: only about six women plus his high queen. In any case, if the whispers were true, any sign of interest in the scribe's son could be fatal for the boy. 

The day passed uneventfully, although she noticed the pharaoh did seem to have his eyes on her more than usual. She feigned indifference and did not break her proper court façade. That night, though, she could not sleep. Restless, she went and stood on her balcony, gazing up at Nut, the sky goddess, and her star-jeweled body arching over the earth. Nut had known sorrow, too, parted ever from her lover the earth. But it wasn't sorrow yet that the girl on the balcony felt. The emotions were not strong enough yet…or perhaps they were and she did not know it. 

A noise of scrambling broke her flow of thought. She turned sharply to come face to face with the scribe's son. "Malik!" she gasped. "What are you-"

"Asenath," he said suddenly. "I wanted…I wanted to talk to you."

"Why? We've never talked before."

"Just once," he said softly. "I hear that the pharaoh…he favors you, shall we say."

"What does it matter?"

"I wanted to speak with you face to face…just once. You've always been there in my life and around the palace, but never really a part of all I knew…"

She turned away, her long hair swishing softly. "You'd leave now if you knew what was good for you, boy," she said.

"Asenath…"

"Go, Malik. If they catch you…"

"I know."

"Well?"

"All right then," he said finally. "I just wanted to talk to you…once."

She turned to reply, but he was gone. 


	9. Sweet Dreams 2

Several days later, a well-groomed messenger arrived at her apartments. "In one day's time," he announced, "you are to ready yourself in fine garments."

"I knew it," whispered one of her slaves. "The pharaoh would not leave her free for long."

"You will be brought to the high priest."

The slave girl gasped audibly.

"If that is what I am commanded," Asenath said softly, bowing her head.

The messenger gave a short nod and departed. The instant he was out the door, all the girls began chattering at once. "The high priest?"

"But he can't marry, can he?"

"What interest does he have in her?"

"Won't the pharaoh be angry?"

Asenath alone remained silent. Deep inside, she knew what it all meant. Late one night, she had heard the pharaoh and the high priest walking in the garden below her balcony. Their voices were hushed but tense and strained. "I will have it," the priest had declared. "With it, I shall rule the shadow games."

"Indeed? And we all know the summons require a sacrifice. Where do you plan to acquire such a life to give?"

The priest had given a short laugh. "You can easily provide one for me."

The pharaoh had brushed his comment off with a wave of his hand. "So take one of the prisoners from the last war. I certainly won't miss one or two."

The priest shook his head. "They won't do. I must have a pure maiden, and you can give me one."

The pharaoh's voice was angry now. "We've been friends in a way for a while, now, but you come to me requesting an innocent life…"

"You have so many women at your beck and call, as we all know," the priest's voice was smooth and persuasive. "Surely I may choose one…"

Their voices had faded into the night as they walked out of the garden, but their words stayed, remembered in Asenath's mind. The next day, the slaves were finishing their routine of gold and makeup when suddenly a breathless Malik appeared in the doorway. "Asenath," he gasped, "the guards…they're coming…here…"

"I know."

"They'll take you to the high priest, and he'll…"

"I know." She refused to even glance at him. Footsteps echoed in the marble hallway. Four guards appeared in neat formation. She rose with her trademark grace and allowed herself to be led from her room. Malik said no more as she walked away. The guards escorted her out of the palace and into one of the rooms of the temple. The high priest waited there, decked in his finest robes and his rod of power grasped in his hand. A cold lust for power gleamed in his eyes as he caught sight of the girl approaching. The pharaoh was with him, but it was regret that glittered in his eyes. Slowly, he walked towards the door, drawing closer to Asenath with each step until he had passed her. "I'm sorry," he murmured as he left.

A slight smile twitched at the corners of the priest's mouth. "Perfect," he said softly. With a flick of his hand, he dismissed the guards, leaving only himself and Asenath in the room. The braziers of fire in the corners gave off an eerie flickering light in the silence. Slowly, drawn by the power of his rod, she approached with a blank face and lay down on the ornate table before him. With a slight ring of metal, he drew the dagger from the rod. "With this," he whispered, "I will show true power." She gazed into his eyes. They terrified her, though she hid it behind a practiced mask. They were deep blue, a demon blue, like the barbarians of the north. Real humans had black eyes, as every true Egyptian knew. 

The glittering sharpness of the dagger hovered above her heart.

Asenath turned her head away and looked towards the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat. Malik stood there, his eyes shining with pain. She noticed for the first time that their color was an unearthly violet. Yet, somehow the hue seemed almost comforting instead of frightening. Their gazes locked for a moment, and in that instant of time, she realized she was sorry to leave him. "I…I lov-" The unspoken words formed on her lips.

The blade fell.

Malik's knees buckled beneath him as Asenath's eyes glazed over. The priest calmly sheathed the dagger and swept the limp body into his arms. Slowly, he knelt facing one wall. Light gleamed as the wall began to crumble, turning everything white. Even Asenath's raven hair appeared almost blond. A blinding brightness suddenly obscured everything else as the legendary Blue Eyes White Dragon came forth, summoned with death.

The pharaoh had her body embalmed carefully and buried her in a solitary tomb out in the desert. Three days after she had been left in her grave, he went to pay a few last respects to her memory. As he entered with his servants, a sight he had not expected struck him. Kneeling beside her sarcophagus, his head resting near hers and his right hand on the carved, folded ones of the coffin, was the scribe's son. The pharaoh approached and spoke to him, but he did not respond. 

He was dead. 

Experts examined the body later, but found no marks to indicate a violent death, nor traces of poison. It was as if he had simply…died. One old woman said it was a broken heart that did him in, but nobody gave her opinion a second thought.


	10. It's Not Fair

Malik awoke with a start. He had slipped halfway off the bed in his sleep and now had his knees on the floor though his head and arms remained resting on the bed. Lethargically, he slid to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes, blinking sleepily. He glanced at the clock. He had slept for about an hour so Isis would probably have dinner ready soon. It was her week after all. 

He ran into her at the grocery the next day, shopping to see if there was anything in particular he'd want to make during his week of dinners. He was looking for the microwave dinners when his cart hit something solid. He glanced up and realized that he had accidentally hit another cart-_her_ cart. They both stared at each other for a few moments, paled, and then blushed. Asenath took a few deep breaths and finally spoke. "Malik…I," she stopped. "Do you have time to talk, maybe?"

There was something strange going on. "Yeah, okay."

They bought their things in silence and stepped outside the store. "So where d'ya wanna talk?" asked Malik.

"I dunno…"

"The park again?" he suggested.

"That far?"

"It's not too bad, I've got my motorcycle."

"Well, for your information, I walked here."

"I'll let you ride behind me…just this once."

"All right."

A few minutes later, Asenath was starting to regret agreeing. Malik wore no helmet whatsoever, nor had one on hand to offer her. Even worse, he only barely abided by those rules they called speed limits. He also seemed to view each and every speed bump as a challenge rather than a warning. By the time they reached the park, she was shaky and her normally perfect hair was rather chaotic. Malik parked and helped her off, trembling with suppressed laughter. "You okay? I know I told you to hang on, but it felt like you were trying to crush me."

She nodded mutely, still trying to calm her heart.

"Well, at least be thankful I went slow. Usually I go kinda fast."

"Th…that was slow?"

"Uh…yeah."

She slowly straightened. "Let's go find a bench…or the playground…anything stationary, really."

He laughed this time. "Okay."

By the time she was out of danger of hyperventilation, they had found a spot under a large tree. They sat there for a while, neither saying anything, until Asenath broke the silence. "Malik…do you think dreams can ever hold any significance or meaning?"

"You saw it too, then."

Her eyes turned to meet his. 

"You saw ancient Egypt and the shadow games. You knew the costs of the lust for power last evening."

She bit her lip. "I woke up around six."

"So did I."

"Can you always believe what you see?"

"Not always."

"Then…"

"I don't know." He sighed. "Yet, somehow, I think it _was_ me in the hallways and the one they found in the tomb."

She nodded. "I saw that part too. Somehow, I think it was me that died in that lonely room back there."

Malik shivered. "If the pharaoh walks again, it's possible that so do we in the same way."

"That means we were dead," she mused.

"Yeah…"

"How weird…"

Silence.

Suddenly Malik slammed his fist into the ground. "It's not fair!"


	11. Meant to Be

"What?"

"My life then…my death…rrg! Why me?!"

"What are you talking about?"

He pulled his knees up to his chest and sulked. "What a wimpy death."

"Whose?"

"Mine."

"You mean because you died of a broken heart?"

He winced. "And over YOU."

"Oh."

She was quiet, and then suddenly giggled.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"You…" she struggled to compose herself. "You _would_ be upset about something like that."

"I don't get it. It was an awful death."

Her shoulders shook as she chuckled. "Of the whole…the whole depressing story… That was _so_ like you…" She threw back her head and laughed.

Malik sulked, but suddenly began to see the lighter side. "That did sound kinda…" he broke off, joining her in laughter. It was several minutes before they paused to catch their breath. 

"Here's to you getting a cooler death in this life," she said finally, still giggling a little.

"Thanks," he grinned. "And here's hoping you don't get stabbed."

She nodded. "I don't believe we were just laughing together."

"You're right. That's weird…"

"But it's a good thing…I think."

He smiled. "I think so too." He stood and stretched. "It's getting dark. Isis will have my head if I miss dinner."

She rose as well. "I should go too."

"I'll give you a ride home," he offered.

She shrugged. "I don't have much of a choice. It's too far for me to decline."

"Okay then." He actually made a considerable effort to slow down as she gave him directions to her house. She must have noticed, because her arms were only loosely around his waist instead of imitating a hungry boa constrictor this time. He walked her to the steps and watched as she unlocked the door. 

"Thanks," she said softly before stepping inside.

"Any time…no, um…"

She smiled. "Not ready to let me ride your motorcycle whenever?"

"Well…no…" He scuffed at the ground.

She nodded, the smile not fading. "I understand." She turned to go through the door.

"Wait."

She stopped.

"Is this…do you think this is all fate?" he blurted out.

"What? That we met?"

"Well…that we're getting along now…" 

She noticed the reddish tinge in his cheeks. "Maybe," she agreed, "but I think there must be more than that. I don't believe in 'meant to be.'"

"Maybe."

"Oyasuminasai," she said with a nod and finally closed the door.

"Good night." Malik sped off into the fading dusk feeling completely confused.


	12. Dagger

It was later than he had intended when he walked in the door. "You sure took your own sweet time getting groceries," remarked Isis, putting out glasses for them both. "What happened to coming home in time to set the table?"

"Um…I saw someone at the store…"

She shook her head. "Never mind. Just sit."

Monday at school seemed uneventful at first, but the Bakura changed that in a hurry. "Oy, Malik! What were you doing Saturday night?"

Malik blinked. "Um…I went to the store…"

"Anything else?"

"I had dinner at home…Isis was trying a new recipe." He grimaced, remembering.

"Were you at the park at all?"

"Maybe." Malik was suddenly cautious. "Why?"

"I knew it!" Bakura yelled loud enough to make the class turn. "I thought I saw you and your girlfriend at the park Saturday night!"

Whispers ran through the room. "Girlfriend? He's got a girlfriend? Since when? Who is it? He's turning red, that means Bakura's right… But he's never so much as shown any interest in any girl I heard of…"

"She's not my girlfriend," snapped Malik.

The whispers ceased. 

Bakura was hardly fazed. "Then what were you two doing sitting under a tree at sunset? Did I see wrong? Was it not just the two of you?"

Malik's violet eyes went cold. "It was."

The whispers began afresh. 

"But it was only because there was something we needed to discuss and no one else had exactly volunteered to come along."

"What? Relationship issues?" inquired Bakura with a smirk.

Malik said nothing. Bakura was right, but admitting so would make things even more complicated.

Bakura opened his mouth to make another comment, but the bell rang and the teacher walked into the room. Everyone took their seats and the lesson started. It turned out that they would be doing presentations on some historical event in pairs. The teacher read off the names and let them get started. Malik was relieved to find that he was to be with Yuugi and not Bakura. 

Asenath was with Seto, but gave no reaction. No reaction, that is, until she saw him. Her heart jumped when she realized which face was his. It was his eyes that struck her. They were deep blue, a demon blue. Slowly, he rose and walked towards her. Something long, slender, and metal gleamed in his hand. She couldn't breathe. He raised the piece of metal. _The dagger,_ she thought desperately. 

She blinked and suddenly the world returned to normal. "I think this'll work for making the graph," he was saying. She blinked again. The piece of metal was a ruler, not a dagger.

Trying to brush off the effects of the sudden flashback, she nodded. "Yeah…yeah, okay…"


	13. The End?

Malik noticed her expression from the other side of the room. He'd have to make sure she was okay later. Yuugi's voice broke his thoughts. "So what was Bakura talking about?"

Malik shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "It was nothing. He's just trying to make life a little harder for me."

Yuugi smiled. "Yeah. His Yami seems to enjoy doing that. I kind of feel sorry for Ryou."

"Hn."

They worked in silence for a while, drawing up an outline and planning on what visuals to use. "Hey, what do you think of Asenath?" Yuugi asked suddenly.

Malik jumped. "Huh?"

"The new girl. What do you think of her?"

Malik felt his face grow hot. "She's…she's okay, I guess."

Yuugi's eyes had a faraway look. "Yeah…there's something about her…" He shook his head. "I mean, I'm already going out with Anzu and all, but…" his eyes wandered to Asenath again "I feel like I've known her from somewhere else…some time before…" He broke off and then laughed. "Weird, huh?"

"Yeah…" agreed Malik half-heartedly. "Weird." He turned back to the project.

Somewhere towards the front of the room, there was a clatter of pencils. Seto stooped to help Asenath collect them all, and he noticed her hands were shaking. "Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded quickly, not meeting his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He sighed inwardly. _Great, she's probably some paranoid schizophrenic or something. As if this school doesn't have enough of them already._ Sitting down and starting to sketch on the paper, he decided to make conversation. "So…where're you from?"

"Egypt," she said, joining him, but keeping a fair distance between them.

Kaiba continued doodling out a design on the paper. "Hn…hey, Egypt…" He looked thoughtful. "Isn't there someone else who transferred in from there a while ago…?" He scanned the room. "Ishtar did, didn't he?"

Asenath suddenly found the scissors very interesting. "Umm…"

"Yeah, last year. I remember now. He's a duelist too, ne?"

"Yeah…"

Kaiba studied her face. "There's no chance you two would know each other, is there?"

She rolled her eyes, trying to keep her composure and conceal how her heart fluttered nervously inside of her. "We're in the same class."

"But from before."

"Ano…"

"Never mind. Let's get some work done."

Asenath ate lunch with Malik and Yuugi and the others that day. About halfway through, Yuugi suddenly brought up a new subject. "Um…did you guys hear? There's a dance in two weeks."

Joey nodded. "I heard. I'm only going if you can bring people who don't go to this school."

"Mai," smirked Honda.

Joey blushed. "Well, you're gonna ask Miho."

Honda shrugged. "Of course."

Yuugi looked at Asenath. A feeling of almost-remembered emotion nudged his heart. "Are you going with anyone? I figured I could go alone and just hang out since Anzu's busy, but if you don't have anyone…"

Asenath smiled slightly and shook her head. "Sorry, I've already been asked."

Everyone stared at her in surprise. Malik was inwardly shocked to find a twang of jealousy pricking at him. "Already??" asked Jounouchi. "Who?"

Asenath let one finger toy with the end of her earring. "Malik offered to take me. Quite a while ago, too."

"Malik??"

The boy was as shocked as everyone else. He couldn't help but notice how hot his face was quickly becoming. "I…I did?"

She smiled. "We made a deal. I'll give him some more time on something he owes me, and he said he'd take me to the dance."

Realization dawned, and Malik relaxed as relief flooded through him. No wedding to plan yet. He smiled back at her. "Oh yeah…I did."

Ryou quickly became Bakura, who stood up. "I knew it! Malik's got a girlfriend! Malik's got a girlfriend!"

Heads were turning again, and Bakura was looking smug. But for some reason, Malik didn't really care. 

Owari

R&R

Well, that's it. No more for this one.


End file.
